Under Appreciated
by Deep Roller
Summary: An old English project I dug up. One of the main characters of Phantom needs his time to vent. Not Erik, Raoul, or anyone else, but he *is* a star! In fact, he's mentioned on most every page! Take a look, if you need a little laugh or a new view on life.


Under Appreciated  
  
By Deep Roller  
  
A/N: This is actually from an English project I did junior year. Our assignment was to write from the point of view of some character's inanimate object. Like a sword, or a hat, or something. Guess what I chose?  
  
  
Disclaimer: Eh, maybe I own this guy's personality....  
  
  
  
Hey! You! Yeah, you, you're lookin' at me, aren't ya? Well, let me tell you a little about my life. I'm a mask. That's right, I get worn, but not just on Halloween. Oh, no. This guy puts me on EVERY DAY. Do you know how hard that is to deal with? I don't get one break, I'm always out on display, always. In the wind, in the cold, in the heat, and never once a wash. Or a thank you. I always get greeted with a look of intense displeasure, and usually the words "I hate you". You know what that does to a self esteem? I'll have wrinkles in my fabric soon enough from it all.   
  
I'm not the first one either. I'm told there were others before me. I think this fellow's got a complex. I mean, I look at him all day and I don't see anything wrong. But then, I'm just his accessory, so what do I know? Plenty! I've seen some sights, boy, but I'm trying to make it last. See, he doesn't believe in the recycling stuff, so I have a feeling once I wear out I'm gone. No, I won't get mended, or patched, I'll get THROWN AWAY. Yeah, that's right, how's that for vanity? A little sewing never hurt anyone, but he has to have everything perfect. And that leaves me in the dumpster where some little freak will put me on and go cavorting around. A nice life to look forward to, huh?  
  
I don't even get a name. Hell, swords have names, he even named that loud thing he pounds on every day, he named the ugly four legged rat-looking beast, but I'm just me. Oh, I forgot, I do have a name. I'm often referred to as "Infernal prison" or "Unfeeling scrap of clothing". Nice way to show appreciation, huh? Gee, I don't get a once over or a thank you every once in awhile, nothing. I'm starting to think I need a vacation. And when people show up to see us, they never say "Hey, nice mask there pal," they either blink at me or ask him to remove me. Am I so socially unacceptable? Do they want to get rid of me so bad? What's so great about him anyway?   
  
And then this girl comes along, right? She's okay, but like all the others, those little fingers are just itching to get me out of the picture. But now I don't mind so much, it's nice to have a little breathing room once in awhile. Sometimes I'd like to up and leave this face of my own accord, but alas I cannot. Strings prevent me. Plus, I don't have legs. Oh, look! She's getting closer! I think she's gonna do it, I think she's actually going to give me a little vacation. Easy girl, I'm not a discuss! Whoah! No legs, no legs!   
  
For someone who doesn't appreciate me and curses my very presence, he sure throws a fit when I'm gone. I need that though, a guy likes to feel appreciated once in awhile. Of course later that night the Staring Session I get really lowers my self image. It hurts hearing someone yell at you and shout "I'd burn you if I could, accursed thing!" over and over. I can't even talk back to refute it. Where would he be without me? Up the creek without a paddle, that's where! I'd give him one day, one day without me there to handle his affairs and help him look out onto the world. I just want him to stay away from that silly girl, she has a habit of tossing me around like an old plate. And if she puts a hole in me, you know where THAT will end me up. The garbage, of course.  
  
I suppose, looking back, that it could be worse. The chandelier told me it got six fractures after he dropped it. Some people have no respect for things, honestly. It tells me he could throw me in the fire just as easily. But I count my blessings, really I do. It could be worse. As the cape tells me time and time again when I complain at night, a toilet seat, no matter how encrusted with gems and gold, still has to kiss a butt sometime. 


End file.
